His eyes darkened as he stared down at Harry. "Did youe here to kill Fiona?"


    Harry didn’t respond. Instead, he tried to push himself up, but Tracie stepped down on his chest, pinning him back down.


    Xander’s jaw tightened. "Was it Mr. Wace?" he asked, his tone eerily calm. "Or Bruce?"


    Tracie’s eyes flickered with slight surprise. So he already suspects them? She hadn’t expected Xander to connect the dots this quickly.


    Harry let out a weak chuckle, shaking his head. "Xander, I don’t know what you’re talking about," he rasped. "I only came here to see a rtive, and this woman attacked me—"


    Tracie hissed in frustration. She had already figured out that Harry wouldn’t admit the truth so easily.


    With an impatient sigh, she signaled for medical attention for the injured security guards. As they were carried away on stretchers, the hospital security stepped forward, suggesting that Harry be taken into custody.


    But Tracie shook her head.


    "I’ll handle him myself," she said coldly, her grip on her gun unwavering.


    Xander barely paid attention to the scene. His mind was already elsewhere, piecing things together.


    Bruce. Mr. Wace.


    His hands clenched into fists at his sides. His entire life, he had believed in their lies, trusted them. And yet, here they were, plotting behind his back.


    A bitter chuckle escaped his lips as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.


    Meanwhile, in Radiantia, Bruce and Mr. Wace were seated in their usual high-end club, drinks in hand. The dimly lit VIP lounge reeked of expensive whiskey and cigars as the two older menughed, their voices slurred from intoxication.


    "Now, there’s no way for Xander to find out," Mr. Wace said, his words slurred as he poured himself another ss, his trembling hands spilling some of the liquor.


    Bruce let out a deep chuckle, clinking his ss against Mr. Wace’s. "Cheers to us," he grinned.


    Just as they downed their drinks, Mr. Wace’s phone rang. He frowned at the screen, the name <i>Xander</i> shing across it.


    "Xander?" he muttered, confusion shing across his face. "It’s not every day he calls me. I’d better answer."


    Bruce nodded, watching him closely.


    Mr. Wace put the phone to his ear. "Xander?"


    "You lied to me."


    The coldness in Xander’s voice sent an uneasy shiver down Mr. Wace’s spine. His drunken haze began to fade almost instantly.


    "What are you talking about?" Mr. Wace forced out, sitting up straighter.


    "Fiona already told me everything."


    Mr. Wace’s heart skipped a beat.


    Beside him, Bruce straightened as well, his drunkenness dissipating in an instant. Mr. Wace quickly put the call on speaker.


    "To think you’d send Harry to kill her," Xander continued, his voice calm but dripping with disgust. "You truly are monsters."


    Neither man spoke. But their silence was more than enough of an answer.


    A smirk tugged at Xander’s lips as he spoke again, his tone mocking. "And Bruce?"


    Bruce stiffened, his breath hitching. He hadn’t made a sound. How the hell had Xander known he was there?


    "You shouldn’t worry about Harry," Xander continued smoothly. "I’ll be sure to bring his body back to you."


    Then—<i>BANG</i>.


    A gunshot rang through the speaker.


    Bruce and Mr. Wace flinched.


    A deafening silence followed before Xander’s voice returned, deadly calm.


    "Both of you had better get ready for what’sing for you."


    Then the line went dead.


    Xander slipped his phone back into his pocket, his cold gaze watching as his men who were always in the shadows dragged Harry’s lifeless body toward the van.


    Then, slowly, he turned to Tracie. His expression unreadable, his voice low and calm as he repeated his earlier question.


    "Who are you?"


    Tracie clenched her fists.


    Then, without warning, she mmed her fist into his jaw.


    Xander staggered back, tasting blood in his mouth.


    Samantha let out a startled gasp and quickly stepped forward. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?!"


    But Tracie didn’t even spare her a nce. She grabbed Xander by the cor andnded another brutal punch to his face.


    "You’re seriously asking me that question?" she spat, her voice trembling with fury.


    Xander wiped the blood from his lip, his eyes darkening. "You—"


    "I’m the sister of the woman you killed," Tracie hissed, her voice filled with pure, unfiltered rage. "You used her. You killed her. All for what? Some pathetic revenge against Xavier?"


    Xander’s breath hitched slightly.


    Tracie’s hands trembled with fury. "You killed Anastasia. And now you find out Xavier didn’t kill Arabe?" She let out a bitterugh, her voice cracking. "Tell me, Xander, what the hell do you have to say for yourself?"